take it but don't break it
by she.daydreams.in.colour
Summary: When a werewolf finds its mate, there's supposed to be an instant attraction – smoldering eye contact, adrenaline rush, the insatiable urge to… you know, mate. Which is why a certain alpha male is confused when he kisses Caroline Forbes but instead kissing him back she smashes a beer bottle on his head. Prequel to The Alpha and His Mate.


A/N: Belated birthday gift to the lovely **Caryn** / **gendryaslove**. :)

-o-

**Take It But Don't Break It**

_"If all is grounded you should go make a mountain out of it." – Sleep All Day (Jason Mraz)_

* * *

It was supposed to be simple trip to Lawrence, Kansas. Elijah's definition of 'simple' revolves around the words short, quiet and uneventful, so when Klaus comes home looking royally pissed off and holding a blood-drenched towel over a morbid two-inch gash on his head, Elijah knows that the trip has been anything but simple.

"Brother," he greets.

Klaus snarls irritably at him before he can even get another word out and Elijah promptly shuts up. The alpha of Mystic Falls' werewolf pack retreats inside the Mikaelson Manor and slams the door shut, almost yanking the huge, intricately carved slab of century-old rosewood off its hinges.

The ever-discerning beta opts to quietly turn to the driveway, where he sees his youngest brother staggering out of the shotgun seat of Klaus' LX 570. Kol himself looks like he just survived a crawl across the borders of North Korea so Elijah correctly assumes that Klaus is angry at the entire world and not just at him. (_Whew_.)

"Bad day?" Elijah says, a statement almost as much as a question.

"Oh, be thankful you got just the two-second snarl." Kol emotes, sinking into the curb in a mix of relief and exhaustion. "Do you have any idea how long it takes to drive from Kansas back to Virginia? Eighteen hours. Eighteen hours, 'Lijah, I was stuck with him like that for eighteen bloody hours!"

"Sounds absolutely… ahem, wonderful."

"Wonderful my ass. If I opened the window, he'd glare at me. If I asked for a stop over so I could take a leak, he'd yell my ears off. If I did anything other than breathe, he'd threaten to kick me out of the car!"

"And what, may I ask, caused this latest fit of fury?" The eldest Mikaelson brother sighs in genuine sympathy.

A twisted grin creeps into Kol's face, as if he knows that karma has already avenged the torment he went through in its own way. "Well, you won't believe this but… our brother has found his mate."

"Found his mate?" Elijah's brows furrow in bafflement. "…then why isn't he… _mating_?"

See, when a werewolf finds its mate, there's supposed to be an instant attraction – smoldering eye contact, adrenaline rush, the insatiable urge to… you know, mate.

Just look at their other brother Finn. He met his mate Sage at a charity golf tournament that the architecture firm where Finn was a partner took part of about five years ago (Wolves have day jobs too, you know? Makes it easier to blend in.); literally ten seconds after they were introduced the two had ditched the eagles and the birdies for a shady little spot behind a tree where they snogged each other like the future of humanity (er, werewolf-ity?) depended on it. Sage went home with Finn that night, and three days later they'd moved out of the Mikaelson Manor in favor of a neat little home across the parallel street. Good thing too, because trust Elijah, one of the worst things a man could ever witness is his own dear brother getting it on with his girl in the hallway.

_It's a freakin' hallway, Jesus fucking Christ._

Finn and Sage have been inseparable ever since – that's just how mated wolves are. So if Klaus has found his mate, then what the bloody hell was he doing there without his mate?

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure we've found Nik's mate." Kol confirms with a smug grin. "But there seems to be a few problems…"

"Problems…?"

"For starters, her choice of friends include two notorious hunters – perhaps you've heard of Sam and Dean Winchester? – and this really weird angel on a burger binge, God he just kept going at them bloody burgers. And then there's the fact that she doesn't seem to like Klaus _at all_ -"

Elijah blinks. "I'm sorry - I thought you said she was Klaus' mate?"

"Well our brother is madly drawn to her, in a manner one will see only in a wolf that's found his pair…" Kol says, eyes twinkling. "But she's not drawn to Klaus."

"But how can a wolf not be drawn to her mate?"

"Um, that's the other thing, 'Lijah…I don't think she's a werewolf."

-o-

_Nineteen hours ago_

Niklaus Mikaelson is a creature of habit. Wakes up at exactly four in the morning, goes for a jog (if the weather so permits) before hitting the shower, shows up for the family breakfast at seven. Tends to matters of the pack in the duration of the day or turns to painting if the earlier is lacking. (His day job, most fortunately, is fine art painting.) Allows himself a couple of hours to enjoy the early evening with a glass of scotch in one of his few preferred establishments – the list of which does not include folksy roadside pubs in middle-of-nowhere country.

And thus you can imagine how surprised his brother Kol is when en route back home to Virginia from a meeting with the lycan pack of Leavenworth, Klaus suddenly pulls over and insists that they stop by this small-town bar that's a few million light years away from the refined places the alpha usually goes to for alcohol.

"Seriously, Nik, what are we doing here? This is so not your kind of place, you must really be desperate for a drink–"

Klaus clicks his tongue irritably, not that Kol could hear anything in the midst of his animated blabbering. As much as the alpha is annoyed by his younger brother's yammer (Gods, he totally should've brought Elijah instead of Kol to this trip -), the truth is that he's more annoyed by the fact that he does not know the answer to his brother's question.

The bloke is right – this is not his kind of place. He can't explain what or how or why, but as they drove along the road something primal and insistent and compelling kept gnawing at his sanity, urging him to pull over and go inside the goddamned the bar.

"Plus, the LX 570 - I like that car, Nik. And no offense to whomever it might concern but this place looks like the kind of place where if you park your car and go in you won't find it where you left it when you get out, you know what I mean? It's like –"

The urge didn't stop until Klaus finally broke down and caved in. He really wished he'd found relief from this bizarre pull he felt for the place once he was inside - but no, it was merely replaced by this furious, fateful feeling that there was something in that bar which he had to find, to claim, to own -

"I doubt they have any drink of satisfactory quality in those shelves anyway. How about we head for Illinois, we can get there in maybe three hours if you step on the gas? Arabella's is in Evanston, it's a way better bar –"

"Zip your bloody howler, Kol, I swear if you say one more word –" Klaus warns, though by the time he says 'I swear' his eyes are already flicking through the bar, looking for that _something_ which, frustratingly, he doesn't even know _what_ exactly.

And then suddenly –

"Hi everyone, this is my friend Sam. He recently learned his way with the guitar and he's playing a song or two for us tonight. Can I have a round of applause for Sam?"

The crowd erupts into claps and cheers as a pretty little blonde slips into the seat in front of the microphone and the handsome young man beside him bites into a nervous smile.

Kol turns to his brother, nose wrinkling as the guy strums the first few notes of the song – ugh he is god-awful at the guitars and Kol can barely take it. He means to ask Nik (in immense disbelief) if he plans to save his auditory senses or if he'd rather be an alpha with damaged ear drums, but a lycan brow raises incredulously when he sees that Klaus doesn't even look like he hears anything.

The alpha's eyes are trained on the girl, his lips slightly parted, jaw tense.

Klaus looks as if he'd been struck by lightning.

-o-

"_I believe, it's meant to be, darling…"_

He hears his heart pounding wildly in his ears, feels his blood stirring violently in every vein and every artery in his entire body. He feels hot – it's like he's fucking _burning_ and everything around him is a fiery blur –

Except for her.

"_I watched you when you were sleeping, you belong with me._"

He takes one look at her and falls headfirst into what can only be described as love. Gods. She's the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. Her wheat blonde hair, her sky-blue eyes, her shell-pink lips – everything about her is beautiful, everything about her is perfect.

"_Do you feel the same?"_

He wants her. He can feel the sparks tingling along his spine, can feel the trembling in his bones. He wants to touch her and feel her and hold her, and he can bloody give up anything and everything to be with her. He wants to take her into his arms and protect her and cherish her and give her the world on a silver platter, if only to make her happy. He wants her more than he has ever wanted anything in this world – no, he just doesn't want her, he _needs_ her.

"_Am I only dreaming… or is this burning an eternal flame."_

It's all just too much. His heart is thrashing frenziedly inside his chest, screaming for her; his mind is drowning in wave after wave of thoughts about her and how much he wants her; his body just wants to feel her against him, skin to skin, his lips hot on hers, her warmth melding with his, running and rising and roaring –

He can't take it anymore. He walks across the bar in brisk, graceful strides, heart pounding as he makes his way towards _his mate_.

-o-

"_Close your eyes, give me your hand…"_

Caroline smiles, a gesture meant to encourage Sam Winchester to go on with the guitars even though she's all but cringing inside. The music is horrible, horrible – ugh, just horrible – but as long as she knows that Sam is doing his best, then she's determined to go through with the performance no matter how atrocious they sound.

Her eyes sweep around the room, engaging her audience like she usually does. She allows herself a grin of hilarity when her sight lands on Dean and Cas – Dean looks like he wants to disown Sam right now, sorry Papa and Mama Winchester, while Cas is smiling lovingly at the precious burger in his hands as if he's also singing Eternal Flame to it.

Huh. You'd think they'd have at least a McDonald's in heaven.

"_Do you feel my heart beating, do you understand?"_

But then she shifts her eyes to the next table and suddenly she finds herself holding the gaze of a tall, blue-eyed stranger making his way towards the stage. The man stops on his tracks, cerulean orbs still intent on her.

An odd sense of warmth begins to stir inside her.

She doesn't recall ever seeing him before, but there's this peculiar familiarity – _understanding_, you might even put it – that she finds herself feeling for him. It's like he was part of her past… or is part of her future. Her heart starts to beat a little faster and traces of affection, which she totally doesn't know the source of, begin to make themselves known.

"_Do you feel the same?"_

Caroline smiles at the stranger, and when his lush lips curl into the subtlest whiff of an answer in kind, she's pretty sure that a blush creeps up her cheeks. Is she crushing on this guy? As in right in the middle of singing a song?

Well he _is_ gorgeous and it seems like the attraction isn't one-way at all…

"_Am I only dreaming, is this burning an eternal flame."_

She wills herself to finish the song, lifting her eyes from the mystery guy and onto another member of the audience. The guy stays in his place, the smile never leaving his lips, seemingly understanding that she has to finish the song.

When she finally does, she's met with whistles and applause from her very appreciative audience. She takes a moment to laugh and hug Sam, who looks absolutely horrified and mouths something along the lines of "I am never going to do this again, Caroline, I swear." before she glances at the stranger who's captivated her attentions.

He's still there.

She makes her way down the stage and walks towards him.

-o-

"Hi. I've seen you here before, are you new in town or visiting?" Caroline meant to say, a friendly question wanting only for a similarly friendly answer.

The thing, though, is that she never gets to say any of those words because the moment she walks within the guy's distance, he wraps an arm around her waist, the other reaching out to lace his fingers into hers and draw them up his chest.

And then he kisses her.

It's quite difficult to describe the kiss – it's not entirely soft, not entirely hard; it's gentle but persistent, one filled with both meek affection and fierce passion. His tongue seeks out hers, daring her to match the heady intensity of his mouth on hers, as if asking her to show him that she feels what he does. Gods, his lips are delightful, and Caroline feels something genuine, something sincere in the way he kisses her – but at the same time she finds herself terrified almost to death.

Her eyes widen as he pulls her in closer. Her chest crashes against his and damn him if he doesn't feel how her heart is beating fast enough to make her faint. Yes, he's handsome, and yes, she's attracted to him – but he's a stranger! She doesn't know him, he doesn't know her, and it scares her to think that he just went in and kissed her like that! Did he think she was some sex-crazed slut who'd get it on with any guy showed interest? She didn't want this, she didn't want to be kissing him, she didn't love him, for heaven's sake! What if he's a bad or crazy person -

She tries to step back away from him but his arm holds her firm, seemingly lost entirely in their liplock. It makes her panic even more, makes her knees start turning into Jell-O for all the wrong reasons.

"_Oh Lord, stop him, he has to stop, this has to stop!_" Caroline thinks frantically, her free hand stretching out and fumbling for anything within reach.

The 'anything' happened to be a bottle of beer.

She grasps the bottle breathlessly and, summoning every ounce of courage she still has left, smashes the bottle into the guy's head.

-o-

The sound of shattering glass fills the bar, and suddenly Klaus' world is in slow motion. He sluggishly draws himself away from the kiss, confusion and distress washing over his features as he looks at Caroline and sees pure terror in her eyes.

He feels something warm trickle down the side of his face, unto his jaw. He slowly lifts a hand to touch his cheek; and when he brings his damp, crimson-covered hand in front of his face, he sees blood.

Did she just…smash a beer bottle on his head?

"Let her go!"

It takes but half a second for Sam and Dean Winchester to pull her away from him, the brothers flanking her protectively. Dean steps in front of her and shields her away from him while Sam stays close to her, and Klaus hears him ask "Care, are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

Hurt her? He would never –

"Nik!"

A quarter of a second is all that Kol needs to be by his brother's side, the younger Mikaelson's eyes widening with concern when he sees a two-inch gash spurting out copious amounts of blood from the alpha's head like he'd fought in the front lines of Spartacus vs. Crassus or something. Kol turns to Caroline and the Winchester brothers, snarling at them ferociously, flashing both men and the shaken woman the sight of his wolverine eyes and lycan fangs.

"Dean – he's a werewolf!"

The older Winchester quickly pulls out a silver dagger from his jacket pocket in about the same ruggedly macho way he takes out his lighter, the one that prompts the groupies to ask "How come Dean always gets it right on the first try?!". There are about thirty people in the bar tonight and with two wolves this can get really messy –

"Look, howler boys, I don't know what you want or why you're here but if you don't leave this pub right now I swear to Lucifer's ass that you're going to regret this." Dean warns. He's pretty sure that a werewolf is faster and stronger than him and where the hell is Cas please don't tell him that the Angel of the Lord is still sweet-talking his burgers -

Kol isn't taking any of it. "Let's see who regrets what, hunter." He growls back, though his stance remains protective of his alpha – _his brother_.

Klaus - characteristically always one to act with full control over _everything_ – still doesn't say as much as a single word. All he can do is to look at his frightened mate clinging tightly, distraughtly, to Sam Winchester, and the expression on his face looks just as frightened. She's his mate, he knows it – but why is she scared of him? Doesn't she feel the same way he does for her?

…Doesn't she love him?

A waft of the autumn breeze drifts by and suddenly the scent it carries gives Klaus the answer.

Beneath the scent of old leather jackets and recently chugged beer from the Winchester brothers and the sweet smell of lilacs and honey that can only belong to Caroline Forbes is the distinctively _non-wolf_ scent of humanity.

Humans. They're all humans.

Klaus' lower jaw drops like Crimson Typhoon's arms all the way down the Pacific Ocean as the realization sinks into him. Of course. She doesn't feel anything that he feels for her because she's _human_. She doesn't have the instincts of a lycan, the very same instincts that let a wolf know who their mate is and how much they need their pair.

Oh Gods. The thought that to her, he's just some random stranger that she feels absolutely nothing for – it makes him sick to his stomach and seriously y'all should move away 'cause he might just fucking throw up.

Blood continues to trickle down from Klaus' face, dripping onto the bar's wooden floor, forming a speechless pool of heart-break which stain would never find itself removed from that bar. Klaus hates how helpless he feels right at that moment - he wants to be with her more than anything in the world, but at the same time he knows that all she feels for him is fear. He doesn't want his mate to be scared. All he wants is for her to be happy.

The alpha makes the hardest decision of his life when he chooses to look away from Caroline and stay his brother's hand.

"Kol." He whispers quietly. "Let's go."

-o-

The dimly-lit room is a sanctuary of silence, the only sound heard being the pouring of scotch over an old fashioned glass every now and then. Amidst books and paintings and all the other objet d'arts in the Mikaelson Manor's study, the pack leader sits on his favourite chesterfield, the taste of alcohol lingering in his tongue almost as bitterly as the emotions that he finds himself wracked with.

He's still thinking of her. _His mate_.

The door creaks open and he sees the silhouette of his older brother enter. Elijah takes a seat on the adjacent armchair, legs crossed in a figure of four, an anxious expression rendered on his genteel face.

"Kol told me about the incident in Kansas."

Klaus merely grunts, lifting a hand to gingerly touch the gash on his head. It's not bleeding that much anymore – though his heart still is.

"What do you intend to do now, brother?"

Yes, what should he do now? His gloriously _human_ mate doesn't want him. He has to do something about it, has to convince her that she's a queen and he is her king. No matter how implausible it sounds in human standards.

"Klaus?"

The alpha closes his eyes. "I intend to sleep."

Elijah says nothing more, just pours himself a glass of his own scotch.

Klaus does intend to sleep. He intends to take any form of rest he can get for the next eight hours. When he wakes up tomorrow with hopefully a clearer mind, then he'll think about it all and decide what he has to do to be with his mate. He loves her, that much he knows, and if they're really destined to be together then she's going to end up with him one way or the other, right?

"Nik?"

He opens his eyes and scowls when he sees Kol standing by the doorway, with a look of equal seriousness and cautiousness painted on his face.

"What, Kol?"

"I know you're probably gonna go all Mission Get-Your-Mate tomorrow and I support you one thousand percent… but can you please not forget to take the car to the detailer? 'Cause, you know, your blood is all over the upholstery and it's going to soak into the leather and it's gonna be a total bitch to clean off, we might end up having to replace the whole thing -"

Klaus groans, rising from his seat and walking out of the study to head for his bedroom without as much as a single glance at Kol. Seriously, he's got a fucking two-inch gash on his head care of a human mate who doesn't want him and Kol is thinking about _the car_?

Lord, he needs to sleep. He really needs to sleep before his head explodes.

Kol's eyes follow his brother's figure as the latter walks down the hall and goes inside his room, slamming the door shut.

He turns to the blissfully blank-faced Elijah and frowns.

"What? I like that car."

-o-

A/N:

1. As always, I'm **erica-dreams-in-colour** at tumblr and you can also check out my multi-chapter fics at **she. dreams. in. colour** here at FFN, both links are in my profile page.

And yes, I also like the LX 570 – too bad the one I got to ride doesn't belong to me or my Dad or my Mum.

2. This is a prequel to my (so far) two-shot fic **The Alpha and His Mate**. It wasn't in the update list but I wanted to make something fun for Caryn's birthday so yay. :) The next chapter of TAaHM, the mating ritual, is on the drawing board but might not see the light of day for a looong time.

3. Who else is participating in the Klaroline Writing Week? :) I'm working on stuff for the next few days – hopefully I get them all out and still have some time left to update Only Red Flames Live Here Now next week. I just have to stop myself from Supernatural DVD marathons and fangirling over Pacific Rim.

Here are some teasers. :)

* * *

**A Lesson in Punctuality – Smut**

"Is there anything else I can get you?"

Caroline smiles tightly at the beak-nosed waiter before glancing at her watch and letting out a tired sigh. It's ten minutes after one o'clock – and her boyfriend was supposed to meet her here at Arabella's for _lunch_.

"No, thank you, I'll let you know if I need anything…"

She's spent the last seventy minutes sipping lemon iced tea (on her third glass by now), dialing Klaus' number (busy), looking around the restaurant (trying to convince herself that no, she does not look pathetic sitting there drinking iced tea alone while everyone else is happily enjoying lunch), dialing Ray's - Klaus' secretary - number ("I'm sorry, Ms. Forbes, Mr. Mikaelson is still on the phone with Mr. Salvatore."), telling the waiter that she's fine and is just waiting for her lunch date (so please stop going to me every five minutes to ask if there's anything else you can get for me) and generally feeling so annoyed that she wants to stab someone (preferably Klaus) with the heels of her 4-inch Gianvito Rossi pumps.

-o-

**But Every River Flows Back to the Sea – Angst**

Marcel is a king who does not bother to care about love.

"I dunno, man, it just sounds like too much of drag, you know?" he kids an old friend once, between sips of bourbon-splashed Sazerac and stout bursts of baritone laughter.

The truth strays not too far from the joke. Each time he gazes at the florid implosion of lights that paint a subtle tint of tea rose over the French Quarter's nighttime sky, each time the electrifying beats of raw music smear a chesire grin across his face as he strides along the neighborhood's bustling streets, each time he breathes in the crisp, lime-tinged air that defines the eternal festivity which he calls his kingdom, he can't help but feel that life is way too good to waste by wallowing in pointless relationship drama. So Marcel, he parties, he flirts and _damn_ he fucks, but he does not fall in love.

And then Caroline Forbes came waltzing into New Orleans.

-o-

**And If He Falls - AU**

It was an assignment that Klaus wasn't thrilled with _at all_.

Seriously. Relocation from the vivid exuberance of culture-rich British Hong Kong to the frigid, if not entirely frozen, middle-of-nowhere arctic zone that is Anchorage, Alaska?

"Lighten up, Niklaus. Perhaps the change in scenery might do us some good," Elijah, in his eternally annoying decorousness, said when they were packing.

_Oh bite me_, Klaus had thought sardonically. Pray, and what 'good' might being thrown into twenty degree Fahrenheit reclusion bring to two of the most decorated Jaeger pilots in the current Pan Pacific Defense Corps roster? The fact that he would be living in the same state as Sarah Palin wasn't even on list of things that Klaus was complaining about.

For the record, he's not going diva because of the cold or the isolation. His beef is with the fact that now he and Elijah will have to work alongside the American pilots, who are, to say the least, _notorious_ for being arrogant, reckless and too fucking stubborn. You know why they have to be reassigned to the Anchorage Shatterdome in the first place? Because Matt Donovan and Tyler Lockwood disobeyed a direct order which ultimately ended in their $80billion Jaeger getting maimed to a sorry state of non-functionality.


End file.
